Mother of Snow
by DifferentlySane12
Summary: It is Jon Snow's 11th name day. Eleven years of mental anguish caused by the subtle abuse the Lady of Winterfell, Catelyn Stark, has given him over his bastardy. Eleven years of being consumed in the mystery of his mother's identity. And when his father refuses to provide him with that information, he decides to try to take matters into his own hands.
1. Chapter 1: A Bastard's Anguish

**Please take into consideration that this is my first fanfiction and that my knowledge of the lore of the "Song of Fire and Ice/Game of Thrones" universe is limited, so please excuse any inconsistencies. Being that it is my first fanfiction, I am welcome to any feedback. Thanks!**

Winter was coming. A statement Jon had heard since he was a baby. A statement that served as a motto for House Stark, the Wardens of the North. Yet, when that winter came… Jon Snow would make little differences in the preparations Winterfell made for that winter. Because he was a bastard. A boy whose father fucked another woman, who birthed him. A boy who had no recollection of his mother and was constantly seen in a sort of distaste by others. Jon Snow was, still, one of the luckier bastards in Winterfell. His father, Ned Stark, took him in and raised him with the rest of his family, even though it was custom to send bastards away to faraway castles. However, the consequence of living in Winterfell was that he had to face Ned Stark's wife, Catelyn Stark's, wrath. A silent wrath, but it was enough. He was shunned from family affairs and in practice, he was brutalized by the stronger Robb Stark, his half-brother, who was about Jon's age but shared his mother's looks and hatred for Eddard Stark's bastard. He was shunned by his half-sister Sansa, who was a spitting image of her mother in almost every way. All in all, Jon Snow was treated as anyone would have suspected he would. Even though, he knew his father loved him as much as any of his other children, he was not permitted to share that same amount of affection to Jon. Jon Snow was an outsider, at least that is how he felt and that is the exact feeling Catelyn wanted him to feel.

It was on his 11th name day that all of these feelings came to boil. The mix of anger and sadness at the treatment he was receiving and the bewilderment he held at the identity of his mother. He was practicing his archery, something he was never quite good at, but he was starting to get a hang of. Instead of the arrow flying several feet away from the target, it was starting to hit the board. Still not where he intended the arrow to go, but it was a sign. It was early morning and barely anyone was awake, certainly not his siblings. Winterfell's silence gave him time to think about his problems and his dreams. He thought about the dream he had last night, where he was Lord of Winterfell, but sadly dismissed it knowing full well that it was just a dream. A bastard could never become lord of a house, something that he was constantly reminded by Robb and Theon Greyjoy. His thoughts drifted to his mother, then. Many quickly gained the assumption that his mother was just some tavern slut that Eddard Stark fucked. But those who knew Eddard quickly dismissed that theory as it was not in Ned's nature to whore around, much unlike the King, Robert Baratheon. He had overheard rumors that his mother could be Ashara Dayne, a noblewoman of House Dayne and sister of Ser Arthur Dayne, whom Eddard had killed in combat in the Tower of Joy. He heard them talk of how Ashara threw herself off one of the towers after discovering Arthur's death at the hands of Ned. When the servants caught Jon listening, they kicked him out and locked the door. It made Jon wonder though. Could his mother be a noblewoman? Is she really dead? Could Jon really be related to the Darynes?! It didn't make sense though. Why wouldn't Ned say, then? If Ashara Dayne was really Jon's mother, then why hasn't he ever heard from Daynes? And if she and Ned fucked, before his father was betrothed and why would he hold himself for being dishonorable? There were too many questions going off at once in his mind. Why? Why?! Why?! He had to ask his father himself. He had to know.

With a new sense of determination, Jon got up and looked towards the balcony of the Lord's room. Much to his shock, he found Ned looking at him with observant eyes.


	2. Chapter 2: An Answer That Never Came

**Honestly, I did not think I would gather as much follows with my little prologue as I did. I felt like the prologue was a bit of a mess. I, also, want to clarify that the reason behind making Robb, who was someone that was friendly to Jon, one of Jon's "bullies" (for lack of a better term) has a mini-story behind it that will be resolved at the ending chapters of this story. So stay tuned. ;)**

Jon Snow marched towards that balcony with a sense of purpose. Who was his mother? He needed to know. It was a question all bastards have asked their fathers at some point in their life. Was she alive or dead? Jon Snow marched with determination flaming in his eyes. And Ned Stark continued leaning on the balcony railing, knowing full well what was to come and trying to come up with a way to dodge this question. It was something Ned Stark had gotten good at. For eleven years, all people have asked was who was Jon Snow's mother and he has had to come up with new ways to not answer. Because he made a promise.

"Good morning father," Jon Snow had reached his destination. All that needed to be done now was allow his father to recognize his presence, then ask the question.

"Hello Jon. You are up early for your eleventh name day. What's on your mind?" Ned answered, knowing full well what was on his mind.

Jon noticed that his father refused to make eye contact. "Who-," the words got caught in his throat and his eyes began to tear up. He couldn't do it. He couldn't bear to ask now. Too many feelings were coming in at once and it was clouding his train of thought.

" _No. I must,_ " he thought and so came in the questions, which were asked with tears pouring from his eyes. He could taste the salt, but he didn't care. He continued to ask. And when he was done, he put his hands to his face and continued to cry. The tears poured through the cracks in between his fingers like waterfalls in a cave. Jon had always been rather good at controlling his emotions, but now he couldn't.

Ned Stark felt his sorrow. It pained him to watch Jon Snow go through what he went through. Every night, he thought of revealing to Jon everything. But he couldn't. He had made a promise.

"I'm sorry Jon. I cannot."

"W-What?" Jon tears stopped flowing. It was like all his emotions had been put on pause.

"I cannot. Tell you. Who your mother is." Ned said through gritted teeth. His face, however, remained cold and unmoving.

"W-Why?! Why can't you tell me? I want to know! Tell me please! Tell me!" Jon Snow began to shake his father's shoulder.

"BECAUSE I SWORE AN OATH DAMN YOU!" Ned Stark's whole expression changed to one between anger and pain. Pain at causing Jon so much grief. Anger at the Old Gods for making him so damn honorable. So honorable, he can't tell a motherless boy who his mother is, because he swore a promise.

Jon Snow, on the other hand, was thunderstruck. No longer was he crying or angry.

"I'm sorry father."

He, then, turned and walked away.

Ned Stark cursed under his breath. Then, looked behind him and saw Catelyn looking on with thoughtful eyes.

"How much did you hear?" asked Ned.

"All. I wouldn't be surprised if all of Winterfell had heard it as well, with all the noise it was causing," she responded.

Ned cursed himself again for being so loud and losing his temper. A Lord must never lose his temper in the eyes of the populace.

"Why must you always be so hard on him?" he asked Catelyn, "It isn't the boy's fault he is a bastard, but you and some of the children are always there to remind him of it."

Catelyn looked away. "I don't blame the boy for his bastardry. It's just… I cannot bring myself to love him. Look at him. He is growing up to look and act just like you. He is a living breathing reminder of how you dishonored yourself and I cannot bear to look at him for it."

Ned Stark remained quiet. He could understand how she felt.

"Who is his mother?" Catelyn asked.

Ned turned to her. "You promised never to speak of that topic to me."

"I know. But why can't you say? Is it such a dishonor that you would rather not speak it?" she asked.

"Yes."

Catelyn turned away.

"You can't comprehend the type of danger that boy would be in, if the secret of his parentage was revealed. You don't understand the power he could and might have." Ned added.

Catelyn turned to Ned again.

He wasn't looking at her. He was staring outside, looking down at Winterfell as he always like to do. But this time, it wasn't because he was admiring the land. It was because he was deep in thought. She realized he wasn't talking to her so much as he was voicing his thoughts.

"That is why I made that promise."


	3. Chapter 3: Anger's Boiling Point

An hour had passed since Ned and Jon's confrontation and the day had not gotten better for Jon Snow. Usually a name-day was met with cheerful celebration, but for a bastard, there was only polite acknowledgement. The day continued per usual, with the breakfast in the morning and the swordplay before noon. Jon did what he usually did and ate away from the family. It was good for him though. After the incident with Ned, he was afraid of what he might do to the next poor soul who decides to mock his bastardy, because he was livid. He chewed his bread and walked to the training yard to work with Ser Rodrik. When he arrived at the yard, there was no greeting made by Rodrik. Only silence. It was as expected. Jon's outburst had attracted unwanted attention to the conversation at hand. Jon Snow picked up his training sword and left off some much unwanted steam. Eventually, Robb and Theon arrived and Jon knew what was to come next. Sparring.

"My lords, if you would join us. I believe now is the time to test your abilities," Rodrik proclaimed.

They were separated into two lines, each containing a four men. Jon Snow was separated from Robb Stark and Theon, meaning he would eventually be pitted against them. After a few minutes, Jon was up. Robb walked up to face him.

"Are you ready?" Robb said with a smile.

Jon remained quiet. Robb's way of torturing him was through these spars. While Jon was slender and fast, Robb was muscular and strong and he made sure Jon knew it. His strikes were hard and created bruises all around Jon's skin. It was Robb's way of reminding Jon of his place. And Jon was not in the mood for it.

"Begin," exclaimed Rodrik.

Robb struck to the left, aiming for Jon's side. It was an attack that was easily parried. Jon sidestepped and swung at the back of Robb's left leg, but Robb turned around, dodging the attack. Robb raised his sword and attacked from above, but the attack was met with Jon's sword as the two clashed. Jon threw all of his strength at Robb, causing him to gain the upper hand in the clash.

"Not… bad," Robb said, through gritting teeth. He sidestepped and drew his sword away from the clash. This caused Jon to lose his balance and fall face-first into the dirt.

"But still not enough," Robb said smiling.

Jon raised his fist and pounded the dirt. He could never beat Robb, no matter how hard he tried.

"Don't think bastards are capable of giving the 'enough' necessary for much anything," added Theon, laughingly.

Robb looked at Theon. " _Too much, too soon Theon_ ," he thought. He was right.

Jon flew into a rage. In a split second, he got up and retrieved his sword. He, then, proceeded to attack Robb with a flurry of attacks and for Robb, it was too much.

Robb was, eventually, overwhelmed and took a hit to the right shoulder. Jon spun around and, then struck at the back of Robb's knees. Robb was helpless and collapsed to the floor. Jon struck him, while he was on his knees. Ser Rodrik, finally, stepped in and restrained Jon, who kicked at the air, trying to get at him. Robb turned around, in shock, revealing a swollen cheek and a bleeding mouth. This was a new side to Jon that he had never seen. Jon was always quiet and took the abuse. Now, it was like he could take it no longer.

"I WILL BE BETTER! YOU WILL ALL SEE!" screamed Jon at the top of his lungs, in his rage, "I WILL SHOW ALL OF YOU! FUCK BEING A BASTARD! I AM THE SON OF EDDARD STARK AND WHOEVER THE FUCK HE FUCKED! SO FUCK ALL OF YOU! I WILL MARK MY NAME IN HISTORY! YOU WILL ALL SEE!

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!"

Everyone turned to see a furious Ned Stark rush towards them. An uneasy silence dawned on them, including Jon.

"Well?!" Ned asked.

"The children were sparring, when harsh words were directed towards the young Snow, causing him to lose his temper. What you are seeing came as a result," replied Ser Rodrik.

Ned looked towards Theon and Robb. "I thought I raised you better than to taunt one of your own!"

Ned, then, turned to Jon. "And you. I can understand why you're mad, but losing your head like this," he gestured towards the bloody Robb, "causes more problems than it, at first, seems!"

"I expected, and continue to expect, better from all of you!" Ned added.

"Now, take Robb and Jon to the Maester to get them cleaned up and I expect this never to happen again."

Ser Rodrik released Jon, who proceeded to walk to Maester Luwin, along with Robb.

"I'm sorry," Robb said, apologetically.

Jon didn't respond.


	4. Chapter 4: Running

**Thanks for all the support in my first fanfiction! Hell, this might actually be the first story I ever finished writing! Be sure to review the good and bad! This is my first fanfiction and I have been a little meh about some of these chapters! Thanks! ;)**

Maester Luwin cleaned the wounds both boys had and, eventually, sent them on their way. Robb had tried to apologized, but Jon wanted to hear nothing of it. His father was right. Letting out your anger caused more harm than good. Robb seemed to take it rather well, but inside he could be plotting revenge, for all Jon knew. Jon frowned. He didn't want to be in Winterfell anymore. No one seemed to care about him or how he feels. So why is he still here? If he left, who would miss him?

Robb left to dine with the family. Jon went towards the halls and picked up his food. He glanced towards the Stark table and found that Catelyn was watching him. He looked away and walked out. He sat on a barrel outside, looking through a window that overlooked the Stark family having their dinner. He saw them talk and laugh, as he ate. Eventually, he finished his meal and the Starks began to walk towards their rooms. He watched them and noticed. One of them was missing.

"Gotcha!"

Jon jumped and turned around to find Arya Stark, who had grabbed Jon left shoulder and was smiling her bright smile!

"Did I actually scare you?" she asked laughingly.

"YES, you actually did!" Jon replied smiling, as he ruffled her hair.

Out of all of his half-siblings, he got along with the five-year old Arya the most!

"They were talking about you!" she said with wide eyes.

"And what were they saying?" Jon had noticed that in the beginning of the dinner, there was a sense of uneasiness between the Starks as they discussed something, most likely about what happened in the training yard.

"Robb was talking about how you beat him up real good and Sansa was talking about you being a bastard," she replied, "What's a bastard? Is it something bad?"

Jon wanted to be offended, but he could only laugh at Arya ignorance and innocence at such a topic.

"A bastard is someone, who doesn't know their mother," he answered with a sad smile, "That is why my last name is Snow and yours is Stark."

"Oh. I got really mad when she said that. I was throwing my bread at her and everything to get her to take it back, but the others just laughed," she responded.

"I know! I saw!" Jon laughed.

Arya's mood then shifted to a more solemn tone.

"Mama wanted you to leave," she said, sadly.

Jon's laughter ceased. He looked at Arya.

"Papa got really mad at her and yelled at her that you are gonna stay," she finished.

Jon looked at the sky and the stars that were becoming more visible in the night sky. Fine. Catelyn will get her wish.

"I am leaving," he finally said.

Arya looked up at him with wide eyes. "Really?!" she said.

"Yea."

"Where are you gonna go?!"

"I don't know. Maybe to the Wall and join the Night's Watch with Uncle Benjen," he said, "or maybe I will live in the woods and set up my own House."

Arya looked at him sad, but amazed, eyes. "Will I ever see you again?!" she asked.

Jon looked at her, ruffled her hair, and placed his forehead against hers.

"Of course you will," he said, smiling, "I'll write every day and when I finally become Lord of my House or become a Ranger in the Night's Watch, I will come visit!"

"Ok!" Arya proclaimed happily.

"ARYA! WHERE ARE YOU GIRL?!"

Jon looked towards the origin of the voice.

"Go on. That's Septa Mordane calling for you," Jon said.

"No! I don't want to go back to that old witch! She always talking about how I need to be a 'lady' and it is really annoying!" she yelled defiantly, "I'm coming with you!"

Jon forgot how stubborn Arya can be. "Nooo, coming with me is not an option. Now go to Septa now or I will be forced to force you to go to her," he said, half-jokingly.

Arya looked at him and frowned.

"Don't give me that face," Jon said laughing, "Now go!"

"Fine," Arya said. She gave Jon a hug, then left.

Jon watched as she walked away, then sighed. He would miss Arya. He, then went to his room and began packing. He took his cloak and some clothes. He sneaked into the pantry and stole some food, as well as, sneak into the armory. He took one steel sword and a bow with some arrows. He would need it if he encountered any wildlings or bandits. " _Or White Walkers,_ " he thought. Then he shook the last thought out of his head. He had been listening to too many of Old Nan's stories. Besides, his father had always said that the White Walkers died hundreds of years ago, along with the Children of the Forest. Finally, he was ready.

He snuck past the guards at Winterfell's gate and began running towards the forest. Running from Catelyn Stark and her stares. Running from his father and his secrets. Running from the Starks. When he reached the woods, he looked back. He saw Winterfell, in all of its glory.

"I'll still miss all of you," he said, sadly. Then he walked into the forest, unaware of the dangers that might lie ahead.


	5. Chapter 5: A Stark Dinner

**Just as a reminder, I am trying to keep this story as lore-friendly and non-canon-breaking as I possibly can. Thanks again for the support!**

"The boy knows nothing!"

Upon discovery that Jon Snow had left, Lord Eddard Stark had been both anxious and furious.

"He knows nothing of surviving in the forests. He is just a boy and won't survive long!" Ned exclaimed, as he prepared his horse. He was to lead six other men to search for Jon. Robb watched quietly as he prepared.

"Damn boy must've heard Catelyn's comments and decided to leave on his own," Ned cursed under his breath.

"Is there anything I can do father?" Robb asked. He had felt guilty for Jon's sudden disappearance. Ever since he was young, he had noticed his mother's grief and hatred toward Jon due to his bastardy. He felt as if it was Jon's fault that his mother felt the way she did, so he lashed out on him. But now, he realized that it wasn't Jon's fault. Jon was just the one that had to deal with the consequences of their father's mistakes.

Ned looked at him. "No," Ned said, "you will remain here. Now go join your mother for dinner."

Robb nodded and obeyed. He discovered that they had started eating without him.

"Robb," Catelyn said with a smile, "I had thought you were going to join your father in the search."

"No. He told me to stay here," Robb said sadly. He sat down at his usual seat and waited for his meal to be served. He had noticed that his mother had been a bit pleased ever since she discovered that Jon had left. It was an observation that he hated.

"I don't understand why father would go out searching for Jon anyway," said Sansa, talking as best a lady as she possibly could. Sansa had always taken her mother's side for just about everything, while Robb was, always, split between his mother and his father on certain topics.

"What do you mean?! He is our BROTHER!" spat Arya. Arya, on the other hand, was always on their father's side, just like Jon, except unlike Jon and their father, she was a girl, meaning that she was intended to become a lady, something that she, adamantly, refused to do.

"Half-brother," responded Sansa, as she ate the piece of meat on her fork.

"You can't say half-brother without the words brother," murmured Robb.

Sansa looked at Robb. "Since when were you on Jon's side?! Besides he is a bastard all the same. It is best he is left to his own in the woods, as there is sadly not much a bastard can ascend to," she said as if it was a fact.

Arya went into a tantrum. "That's not true! Not true! Not true! Not true!" she shouted, while hitting Sansa with her fork, causing Sansa to quickly run away as pieces of meat from the fork went flying at her.

"Arya! By the Seven, can you leave your sister alone?!" Catelyn ordered.

Arya put away her fork. She sat back in her seat, crossed her arms, and frowned. Sansa took a seat on the other side of the table, next to Robb.

"She is a LIAR! Jon is gonna be something! He said so!" Arya exclaimed.

"What do you mean Jon said so?" Catelyn asked, puzzled.

"I talked to him before he left. He said he was going to go to the Wall and become the Lord there or make his own House!" Arya answered, "And he said he was going to visit!"

Catelyn laughed. "Oh Arya. There is a large difference between what people will say and what they will actually do," she replied.

"Well I believe he is going to do!" Arya said defiantly, "You'll see."

Suddenly, what Jon said to Robb in the training yard came back to Robb.

" _I WILL BE BETTER! YOU WILL ALL SEE!_ " Jon had said.

"Well, no matter, I do not think he will be coming back and, in my own opinion, it would be best for all of us if he didn't." Catelyn stated.

Arya's eyes watered at the thought, while Sansa nodded in agreement. Robb, however, did not feel the same.

"A bastard he may be, but he still shares our blood," Robb stated, as he turned his head to his mother, "How much blood he shares does not matter, but it still makes him my brother and that is a brotherhood that I am proud to have."

Catelyn looked at Robb with thoughtful eyes, then got up and left the table. A moment of silence was held between the siblings for a few minutes, until they, eventually, got up and left to go to bed.


	6. Chapter 6: Snow's Return

**This is not the final chapter! I repeat! This is not the final one! But it is the most important. Now carry on. :P**

The Wolfswoods were a terrifying place, Jon Snow decided. It had been several hours since he had left Winterfell. Hours of just running. He hadn't eaten or drank anything and he was exhausted. Part of him was regretting leaving, but the other part reminded him that there was no place for him in Winterfell. No place for him to come back to. If he did go back, it would have been more of the same.

He looked around. _"It would have been a lot better than this though,"_ he thought. Through that entire day, he heard leaves rustle and wolves howl. The trees seemed to cover most of the sky, making the forest dark. And Jon felt like he could feel the distinct feeling that someone… was watching him. He looked around. Every sound was terrifying. At this moment though, Jon could care less. He was dirt, hungry, thirsty, and tired. He felt like he could drop dead at any given moment. But he willed himself on. He found a clearing where the moonlight shined through the leaves, revealing a small pond. He sat on a rock a few feet above the pond and took out his satchel. He took off his shoes and dipped his feet into the water. He let out a breath of relief. He got his satchel and brought out some bread and some wine.

After finishing the meal, he brought out his sword. He, barely, ever held a steel sword. Only time he did was when Robb began demanding that they practice with steel. When Rodrik granted his request, they all found that it was much too heavy for them to practice, which added to Ser Rodrik's amusement. That was almost two years ago. Now, Jon was strong enough to swing the sword with a bit of grace.

He smiled as he reminisced at all the memories he had in Winterfell. For all their coldness at him, he loved his family. Maybe some a bit more than others, but he still cared for them.

That's when he heard it. His head snapped to the side. It sounded like a stick snapping. He stood up and aimed his sword towards the sound. He could see the silhouette of a large man, trying to hide behind a tree.

"Show yourself! O-Or I will kill you!" Jon threatened, or at least tried to. Who was he trying to fool? He had never killed a man and part of him didn't want to.

"Well, what have we here?!"

The man, calmly, walked out of his hiding spot and through the bushes to reveal himself to Jon. He was no one that Jon recognized. He was a large man with a bald head and a red beard that extended to the bottom of his neck. He had one large eye and was dressed in rags. He held an axe in his right hand, that he had relaxed to his side.

"It looks like a little boy," answered a voice behind him. From out of the bushes came a skinny man with a bad slouch that made him look two times smaller than he actually was. He had black eyeliner surrounding his large eyes and a toothless smile. He was clutching onto a spear.

"Should we kill him?!" the skinny one asked the larger one.

The large one looked at him and responded, "No dumbass! Look at his clothes. No, this one's a lord's son. And a lord's son come at a hefty price!"

The man walked up to the young Snow. He grabbed Jon's sword by the blade and pushed it away. He, then, grabbed Jon by the cheeks and turned his face around.

"Yup yup! Lots of coin to be had with this one!" he said cheerfully.

Jon was too terrified too do or say anything. They were wildlings and they were ready to ransom him. Jon had heard stories of what wildlings would do with their prisoners. They would cut his balls off and feed it to the goats or send it to his father as proof of Jon's captivity. They would torture him endlessly or hell, if they were desperate, they'd rape him. There was no predicting their behavior and that was what made them dangerous.

"And look at this!" the skinny one proclaimed, "fresh food and the boy was nice enough to find us some water!"

"Oh this is good! Very good inde- " he never got to finish that statement.

An arrow went right through his skull, from the back to the front. Jon watched in horror as blood seeped from the wound down his face, until it reached his nose, where it branched off into two directions down his cheeks. The look of shock on the skinny man's face would terrify Jon for the rest of the year. But what came next would define him for the rest of his life.

It came without thinking. Jon released himself from the large man's grip and dived for his sword. In a rage, the large man charged at him. Jon rolled out of the way with his sword in hand. He got up and as the large man turned around, Jon stabbed him through the heart. Blood gushed from where the man was penetrated and Jon began pushing on the blade, because it seemed stuck on something. Eventually, the blade gave away and the sword went through the man's back. The man's mouth became shaped like an oval and he let out his last breath. Jon let go of the sword and the man's body went limp and it collapsed to the ground. Jon pulled out his sword.

He, swiftly, spun around to see a woman on a horse standing there. The woman, at first, was looking at the man's body with a frown. Her eyes then turned to Jon and she turned her head to face him. Her expression softened and she smiled a very kind smile.

"Now what's a little boy like you doing so deep in Wolfswood?" she asked.

She had wavy dark-brown hair that reached to her shoulders and light eyes. She had soft skin and overall was very beautiful. She reminded Jon of Arya, but older and more beautiful. Her appearance seemed to glow though, as she dressed in all white. Her horse was, also, white and had the same glowing demeanor.

"I-I ran away," Jon replied.

"From where?" she asked as she leaned on her horse's neck, getting closer to Jon. Her eyes were watery, as if she were about to cry and she looked at him with a sort of sadness, as if he were someone she had not seen in a long time.

"From Winterfell," he answered.

She turned her head to the side, puzzled. The smile she bore brought a sense of warmth to Jon, causing him to lower his guard. He felt like he knew her.

"And why did you run away?"

"Because I-I-…" Tears began to build in Jon's eyes. He divulged the story of his bastardy and the treatment he had to take his entire life. Something about this woman made Jon trust her, as if he could tell her everything and more. And she listened. She listened and it was as if she took it to heart. As if she blamed herself. As if she understood.

"And do you think running will solve anything?" she asked when Jon had finished with his story. Jon looked at her.

"I tried fighting, but my father said it caused more problems!" he exclaimed.

The lady sighed, then looked at him and smiled her kind, but sad, smile.

"There is a time and place for everything. That is what your father was trying say. When you fought, you fought with anger. That anger led to the beating your brother received and it made you seem wild. Like you couldn't be controlled," she said, "Prove them wrong. That is how you need to fight. Show them what you are capable of without losing control. A Snow you may be, but even a bastard can rise high."

"You can't comprehend the power you have child and what you can do with that power," she added. She put her hand on his head and caressed his face. "Your tale will make the legends of men like Daeron Targaryen seem like children's stories, but that tale can only begin if you go back to your home," she finished.

Jon looked up at her in amazement. What if she was right? What if he is destined to be something great?!

The woman turned her head towards the direction of Winterfell. "Home," she whispered with exasperation. She turned to him.

"Will you?" she asked.

Jon nodded. She removed her hand from his face and gestured for him to get on her horse, which he did, obediently.

"Do you know the way?" he asked.

She turned around and smiled. "I could never forget it."

And so they rode for Winterfell. Jon hugged the woman to keep from falling and he could feel a familiarity in her warmth. He knew her. Could she be…? Jon raised her head to look at her.

They, stopped at a few feet from the gate. The guards hadn't noticed them. Jon got off the horse and began to walk towards the gate. He looked back to see the woman on her horse. She nodded at him, encouraging him to keep on. Eventually, he reached the gate.

"Holy shit, the bastard's returned. Quick! Tell the Lord!" exclaimed one of the guards. The second guard hurried away. The gate was opened. Jon walked through, then looked back expecting to find the woman close behind him, except she wasn't. She had disappeared. Jon's eyes kept searching in disbelief.

"JON!"

Jon turned around to find his father, running towards him. Ned Stark grabbed him and held him close in his arms. Jon, at first, was surprised, then wrapped his arms around Ned's neck. Jon didn't need to look around to know that Catelyn was probably watching. He didn't care though and continued to embrace his father.

Ned pushed him away and looked him in the eye.

"Never. Ever! Leave without my knowing. Understand?!" he said,

"I understand," replied Jon.

"Swear to me!"

"I swear."

And Jon meant it.


	7. Chapter 7: A Bastard's Denial

**I'm sorry it took me so long to finally finish this chapter. I've been pretty busy** **procrastinating** **with work and stuff, but I finally got done with this. One more chapter to go, and it will be more of an epilogue so yea. Enjoy!**

"Aside from a few cuts and bruises, so far I have not found anything wrong with him, my lord," stated Maester Luwin.

Jon was sitting on a bench that was a bit too high for him, leaving his feet to dangle just above the floor. Maester Luwin was crouched in front of Jon, passing his hand over Jon's legs as he tried to feel for any fractured bones or other injuries. Ned Stark was on the far side of the room, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, with a face of ice as he stared at the room, consumed by his thoughts.

" _Swear to me, Ned,_ " those thoughts whispered.

Jon stared at him, trying to decipher his body language, but it gave away nothing. Finally, Jon began to speak.

"I met a woman in the woods," Jon said.

Ned blinked and looked up at Jon. "None of the guards saw any woman accompanying you at the gate," he stated.

"That's because she left when I got here. She saved me from a pair of wildings in the woods."

"Then, what was her name? What did she look like?" Ned questioned, "If that is the case, I should reward her for ensuring your safety."

Jon looked away. "I-I don't know her name. I never asked," Jon said sadly, "But she said she was from Winterfell and that you are a good friend of hers!"

Jon went on to describe the woman he saw. As he did so, Ned's face softened and his eyes grew wide. Ned looked stunned.

Jon observed his reaction. He had to ask. He didn't care if Maester Luwin was there. He didn't care if his father would chastise him over it. He **HAD** to ask!

"Was that my mother?"

Maester Luwin, who had still been checking Jon for injuries (even though he was probably done, he was dragging it on to listen to the conversation), froze. The silence in the room hung around like the breath of a hundred drunk men. Ned remained unmoved.

"Maester. If you would excuse us," Ned ordered, sternly.

Luwin nodded his head and walked away. It was just Jon and Ned now.

"That was her. Wasn't it?" Jon asked in disbelief.

Ned fidgeted and sighed as he looked up at the sky, then back at Jon.

"Where exactly were you in Wolfswood?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"Were there any weirwood trees?"

Jon began to think. "There were a few."

Ned, solemnly, nodded.

"Jon. It was a dream. The weirwood trees are known to do this, under the correct circumstances," Ned explained, "Your thoughts dwelled on your mother, so they provided a vision of a person, whose looks and actions reminded you of how you believe your mother might be."

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Jon cried out, in tears, "I SAW HER! THAT WAS HER! I KNOW IT!"

Ned remained silent, as Jon sobbed. Eventually, Jon got up, wiped away his tears, and began to walk towards the door.

"Your mother was the bravest person I have ever known."

Jon stopped and looked at Ned, who was still leaning against the wall with his face still facing Jon's original position.

"She knew the risks when she birthed you. She knew the danger. Yet she birthed you anyway. And despite it all, she loved you."

Ned looked at Jon.

"I don't understand," Jon said, quietly.

"You don't need to," Ned replied, "Just know she loved you."

Jon nodded and walked away. He walked towards his room for some sleep, despite it being close to dawn. It had been a long name-day and Jon needed a bit of sleep. During that sleep, he dreamed of when he was riding the horse with the woman and how familiar, and loving, she felt as he embraced her.


	8. Chapter 8: Cold Wind Blows

**The final chapter/epilogue to "Mother of Snow." I will write a sort of sequel to it called "The Three Dragons," which will feature Jon, Daenarys, and Tyrion following the events of Season 6 and how they come to unite. Basically, my two cents on what will happen in the coming seasons. If you're into that, then stay tuned.**

"Your tale will make the legends of men like Daeron Targaryen seem like children's stories, but that tale can only begin if you go back to your home."

Suddenly, Jon awoke, with his body hot in the cold Northern weather. He rubbed his eyes, got out of bed, walked towards the window, and glanced outside. Winterfell was awake, with everyone walking towards the Hall for their breakfast. Jon had overslept a bit.

He walked out of his room and towards the Hall, when he felt a hand lay rest on his shoulder.

"Jon!"

Jon turned his head to see Robb, who had a smile on his face and enthusiastic eyes.

"Robb," Jon acknowledged, coldly.

"I heard you came back. I guess that means Mother was right about it. We had had quite the argument over your disappearance," Robb explained, "I, honestly, didn't think you would return… because of… uh… what you said and all."

Jon, quietly, recalled his outburst in the yard and began to cringe. That was stupid of him. It was like his father and the woman said: he needs to control himself better.

Robb, then, stopped walking. Jon took a few steps before he noticed Robb's sudden halt and looked at him. Robb looked down and tapped the side of his thigh as he, to Jon's surprise, apologized.

"Jon. I'm sorry for my treatment of you. You don't have a mother and the fact that you are blamed for it is… wrong," Robb said, "Whomever your mother is… I don't care. You are my brother."

Jon was stunned.

"Now come on or we'll be late for breakfast," Robb said as he wrapped his arm around Jon's shoulder and began walking, "Sansa got sick overnight and is with the Maester as we speak, so this is the perfect time for you to sit at the Family table."

Jon looked at him with disbelief. "Won't your mother take offense to this?!"

"Fuck my mother," Robb replied, "Besides it is just this once."

Jon look of shock soon transformed to a face of happiness, when, suddenly, he felt like he was being watched. He turned his head to see the woman, smiling as she looked at him. Jon looked at her with wonder and disbelief as she reached her arm out towards him and extended her hand. He, then, felt a cold wind blow and watched as she turned into flakes of snow that flew along with the wind, and into the sky.

"Something wrong?" Robb asked.

Jon stared at the sky for a while, until he answered with a slight smile, "I'm fine."

 **Several Years Later**

Jon doesn't know why he was thinking about that memory at a time like this. A time when, a few seconds ago, he had just seen his brother, Rickon, die in front of his eyes. A time when he was rushing an army of 6000 men, with an army of half that amount behind him. A time when he might very well die. Suddenly, out of a thousand arrows being fired at him, one manages to hit his horse in the head, causing him to fall off. Dazed, he gets up to find that Ramsay's army has begun to charge him. However, instead of seeing the army, he sees his life, flashing before his eyes… until he dismisses it. Jon straightens up and begins to take off his belt and unsheathe his sword.

" _No,_ he thought, _"It's not yet my time."_

This was the same thought he had, when his brothers of the Night's Watch each began to stab him.

" _There are still too many questions I need answered,_ he thought, as he readied his sword, _"And I_ _ **will**_ _have them answered!"_

It was at this moment that his army rushed from behind and clashed with the Bolton army.

It was at this moment that the Battle of the Bastard had begun.


End file.
